


No Jackie K.

by Reality 2_0 (reality_2_0)



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 05:43:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11662797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reality_2_0/pseuds/Reality%202_0
Summary: set January 20, 1993; While he waits for her, he thinks about the past.





	No Jackie K.

Pacing through the central hall of the second floor, he was overcome by awe and wonder. It felt surreal to be at the White House not as a visitor but as a resident. He still couldn’t quite believe he, they had made it.

The sense of history that could be felt within these walls was undeniable. Truman, Eisenhower, Kennedy… they had all wandered through these halls. Decorated differently for each First Family, but these halls nonetheless. He admired Truman, would always be thankful for Eisenhower’s action on desegregation, but it was Kennedy he felt the closest to. Despite their differences in upbringing and style, the media drew parallels, compared them, milked the image, the literal image of him shaking Kennedy’s hand decades ago. While he was generally flattered by the comparison – there was no denying the appeal of the Kennedys, especially to a Democrat – he hoped to survive not only his first term, but also a second one. He wanted to enjoy life longer, wanted to see his daughter grow up, to meet his grandchildren, to grow old with his wife who had been whisked away earlier by her hairdresser to prepare her for the evening.

Putting on the monkey suit and running a comb through his hair had obviously taken less time than getting her hair styled, putting on make-up and a dress he had no idea what it looked like. She had refused to tell or show him. Not even a hint or a glimpse.

Thus he had no idea what to expect, envisioned her in various colors and cuts. Unarguably, she was no Jackie Kennedy. He had dated a few Jackies in his life, but in the end, he hadn’t wanted a Jackie – much to his mother’s displeasure. She would have preferred a daughter-in-law with more style, one who shared her obsession with make-up, who took a bigger interest in her appearance on a daily basis. Instead she had gotten one who couldn’t have cared less about decorative cosmetics. And although he as a rule strove to make his mother happy, he couldn’t have cared less about her unhappiness with his choice as long as she treated his girlfriend and later wife with the respect she deserved. It had taken years for the two women to get along. His wife’s increased attention to make-up and what she put on in the morning surely helped along with the fact that he was obviously deeply in love and happy with her. Granted, they had hit a few rough spot over the years, but they had fought their way through each and every one of them, emerging stronger instead of weakened.

The latest bump – and a big one at that – had been the campaign that had gotten them here. Tonight was their chance to celebrate before they would dig in deep to get their beloved country back on track. One of the many reason, he was happy to be blessed with no Jackie. It would be a lie to say that Mrs. Kennedy hadn’t taken an interest in her husband’s politics or hadn’t even tried to get a word in, but for the most part, her focus and interests had lain elsewhere. Personally, he liked his wife to be involved, liked to discuss policies and politics with her, to explore points from all sides in a heated debate between the two of them. Contrary to everybody else in his life, she never backed away from a fight, gave as good as she got, matched his fire – and was beautiful doing so.

Of course, he was biased, but to him, she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on. Hers wasn’t a common beauty by certain standards, but the beauty of her soul always shone through, making her more appealing than any flawless supermodel.

Not that there was much of a difference between them tonight, he thought when he turned upon hearing footsteps behind him and got a look at his wife all dolled up for a night of inaugural balls.

Smiling, she did a full turn for him and then curtsied. “Mister President.”

Even his mother would be impressed tonight. The color of the dress highlighted her big blue eyes, and although the dress’s cut was conservative, the lacy fabric made it less so. He also loved the up-do the hairdresser had created for it allowed him free access to her neck – a part of her body he liked to nuzzle, touch and kiss whenever he could.

“Wow” was all he managed to say.

Her smile broadened. “Why, thank you, Mister President. I just hope you’ll rediscover your vocabulary on the way to our first stop,” she sassed. “You do look very handsome yourself.”

Cheeky woman. He promised himself he would get her back, would compliment her in front of every crowd, praise her every chance he got – until she wished he would just stop. Which would probably happen the first time he did it.

He stepped close to her and wrapped an arm around her waist. “I promise not to embarrass you with a lack of wordiness,” he said before pressing his lips again the curve of her neck. “But for now, allow me to be speechless in the presence of my gorgeous wife.”

“Permission granted.” She hummed, relishing his attentiveness. 

By sheer force of will, he tore himself away from her neck, but didn’t relinquish his hold on her. 

“So beautiful,” he said quietly, his tone full of wonder and admiration.

Nobody would mistake her for Jackie Kennedy like they liked to liken him to her husband, but he preferred it this way because she wasn’t like anybody else – and she was his.

He was proud to have her by his side, and looked forward to showing her off tonight.

“Shall we?” he asked, offering her his arm.

“We shall.” She put her hand on his arm, and off they went. Side by side, equals, individuals, their own persons intent to make history.

The End.


End file.
